The Poet

The Poet

Tuesday, July 9, 2013

Opened Windows by Ron Porter ©2012

Oh! The warm and velvet nights
naked figures moved in darkened rooms
sometime a flickering candle flame
chased silhouettes across the wall
incense smoked the air with perfume
secret words were spoken low
with quiet intensity
while all the opened windows
admitted the traffic sounds
and the occasional
cooling summer breeze

When You Figure It Out, Explain It To Me by Ron Porter ©2013

put me on a roller coaster
prop me up in a popup tosater
cook me up in a turkey roaster
I am just alone for the ride

set me adrift in an oarless boat
lock me in a castle behind a moat
take me to the circus so i can vote
I don't have anything to hide

leave me stranded in deep snow
take me where the wild things grow
abandon me where the cold winds blow
I will still find where it's warm inside

You can take a chance
You can steal my pants
But I'll keep my car-keys and my pride
So stop being so got-damned snide!

Saturday, May 25, 2013

Cool Room, Summer 1973 by Ron Porter ©2013

Up the stairs, the room was cool
when summer blazed outside.
And, even on the sunniest days,
inside it was shadowed and dim.
Victor, with his hat pulled low
grinned on the sofa and played guitar.
Betty was in the kichen humming,
making a dinner for two.
The only member of the quartet
not present was always you.

The records we played and another
cold beer kept me from going insane.
'Cause though I was terminally hip
and, always cool on the surface,
I was estranged from the woman I loved,
and stayed all torn up inside.
I fought to not fight, got high all night,
and once even publicly cried.
So many nights, I made my way home
across the Humboldt Street bridge alone-

to lie awake in my childhood bed
telling myself that I did not care,
until  finally I could fall asleep
as morning lightened the sky.
Later I'd make my way back
to the cool, dim room up the stairs,
and go through the motions, one more day
and pretend that I was all right.

Sunday, May 12, 2013

For A Rainy Day by Ron Porter ©2013

skin the color of honey
she had cat's eyes
and laughter like a song
every time she walked
it looked like she was dancing
whispers of affection
like silk caressing skin
she liked pillow talk and sin
I knew she wouldn't stay
but I drank deep
my share of love
and saved my tears
for a rainy day.

Saturday, May 11, 2013

A Brief History by Ron Porter ©2013

erratic beat, out of rhythm
lovesick hearts don't dance
you traded love for indulgence
I went and lived by the sea
factory work grew your money
high rise housing and cocaine
the street rose up and took me
oh but the weather was nice
i abdicated before the coup
gone like a thief in the night
good to be back home
you said home was your arms
my feet didn't fit the shoes
no need to look nothing to see
the phone calls lost their lure
you used up the fool in me

Restless Souls #4 by Ron Porter ©2013

There's a bar down at Four Corners
where good dreams go to die.
The place is dingy and dirty and
the back is dark enough
nobody sees the tears if you cry.

They got misery on tap
for fifty-five cents on a glass.
You can maybe get laid
or maybe get played;
On a wild night you just might
have somebody kick your ass.

The smell is always a little sour;
There is never any happy hour.
The minds are all bleary;
all the hearts are full of holes
and, if you look outside
the streets are paved with restless souls.

Restless Souls #5 by Ron Porter ©2013

failed hopes line up at the bar
to drink away the bitter taste
of dreams that never flew too far
frustration reeks! disappointment leaks
to rise with secondhand streams
of cigarette smoke, man what a joke!
money talks and bullshit strolls
and, the street is paved with restless souls

unreal expectations crowd the floor
moving to the music-the mating dance
with vain visions of romance
as the girls size up the fellas
there ain't no more cinderellas
happy ending? not even a chance
every smile is a lie as they play the roles
outside, the streets are paved with restless souls

the rubberneckers crowd the stage
all caught up in in hormonal rage
on the beat with the bump and grind
man she's a looker, maybe she's a hooker
is she looking at me or
is that all in my mind
man she sure can work them poles
filled with lusty alcoholic glow
and the streets are paved with
aw hell, you know....

Sunday, April 21, 2013

Wow! This One Surprised Me by Ron Porter ©2013

Sailing ships; potato chips,
leather clad women snapping whips.
Blood drips from fingertips
my legs gone-up to the hips.
I know that I am dreaming;
mentally I shake myself awake;
look around for the pills I take.
I look down and start to shake
My bed looks like a blood filled lake.
I lift my covers and,
then comes the screaming....

Saturday, April 20, 2013

Black Night Bleeding by Ron Porter ©2013

somewhere in my black night neighborhood
somebody plays an old sad song
someone who's been wounded in love
i can tell cause he plays it over and,
over, and over again
like a repeated prayer to bring her back
or at least to relieve the pain

and,  a group of old dudes in the alley
pass a bottle of Mad Dog and talk
about how they were slick and cool
way back in the day when they 
were kings of the street;
how good they hustled pool

And, hope walks with a limp
through yards without fences, looking
for anybody who still believes
siens cut the night like a blue steel
double-edged, hollow ground razor
and the black night starts to bleed...

Saturday, March 2, 2013

Lady Love by Ron Porter, a Pantoum © 2013

Lady Love - She winked at me
I was shaken by surprise
Rapture, transported, suddenly
I saw life through brand new eyes. 
I was shaken by surprise
Purple curls and eyes of green
I saw life through different eyes
Prettiest smile I’d ever seen. 
Purple curls and eyes of green
I was conquered by her charms
Prettiest smile I’d ever seen
Heaven waited in her arms
I was conquered by her charms
Joy dismissed all my old sorrows
Heaven waited in her arms
She is promised all my tomorrows 
Joy dismissed all my old sorrows
Love she offered for eternity
She is promised all my tomorrows
Lady Love; She winked at me.

Saturday, January 5, 2013

When You Awaken, A Dizain by Ron Porter ©2012

When you awaken and find me gone,
What words, I wonder, will you say?
Will you feel better or worse alone?
maybe i could have waited another day;
Perhaps found the right words to say.

Why buy more time to waste?
I miss that little mark on your face.
I presented my ticket; I'm in the air.
Where I'm headed- a brand new place;
Somewhere where you won't be there.

No More Bake Sales, A New Beatnik Rant by Ron Porter ©2012

Jello molded, cookie-cutter, suburban, midnight fantasy
warmed the malformed, uninformed, non-conformist travesty
Bothe difference and the sameness of you and me
is we don't have a family
like the ones you see
in the mind-slime, portrayed on prime-time, network T.V.

And the politicians scream to the sky
Everybody's gonna get a piece of the pie
Remember, Marie Antoinette said Let them eat cake
I'm a little weary of this whole Bakery motif
I will not got to the bake sale
or the bullshit on a bagel banquet
at ten thousand dollars a plate
Push the party line-Promote the agenda
tender agendas, agenda benders, spin the agenda
lay down your liberties, quietly surrender

Always remember
A House Negro is still a house negro even
when him lib up in de White House
Right massa Soros? (wink-wink, nudge-nudge)
Oops, better be careful here
It's like the Neville Brothers sang
It's freedom of speech...
... as long as you don't say too much.

Don't say too much; stay out of touch; do not think
do not surmise
just sit and consume the lies from the big screen
High-Def, surround sound,LCD, lie machine
make sure the lawn stays green
bullshit keeps it fertilized
fertile minds in which to plant
seeds of complacency

The bigger the lie-the bigger the hook
they will swallow and
the bigger the hook the bigger the fish caught and cooked
Can you smell the grease cooking?

And, I mourn the living dead
born and bred
to wear the chains forged in their own heads
where the deceptive words are said
that Uncle Sugar, Big Daddy Government
will: buy your cell phone, stamp you some food
pay for your cable, supply all your needs
from cradle to grave
if you just stay a slave
working on the plantation in the mind
how can so many be so blind?

And the Judas Goat with Mickey Mouse ears
keeps on lying. Man, freedom is dying.
while the deluded keep on buying
the false hope of non-interest loans
and low mortgage rates for communities with gates
where everybody rides hybrid roller skates
and eminent domain owns all of the homes

Suburban nightmares, quite disturbing
and the Jello-molds shape how they think
while cookie cutters punch
out another drone like hive-mind bunch
and to those who understand what I'm stating
cleans your guns and be ready and waiting
when... the taxman... busts down your door!